The Thin Edge of the Dagger
by ohsosexyfoxhat
Summary: I am not malicious. I am not evil. But I am a killer. I am Clove, tribute of District Two, and this is my story. Previously under the title name 'Clove'. I thought 'The Thin Edge of the Dagger' was a better title, so please tell me what you think!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Thuack! Something hit the targets in the room next door. Strange, I thought I was the only one here. I gathered up my knives and I walked silently towards Room Two. I pushed open the door, and there was Cato, practicing shots with his spears.

"Hey," I said, sitting against the chests that held weapons.

"Practicing," he muttered, "You know, for the reaping." I didn't dare tell him I was planning to volunteer.

"So, you gonna volunteer then?" I asked lightly.

"Might do, might not. Whole of District Two wants me to, but yeah, we'll see" He was so mysterious, that was one thing that irritated me about Cato.

"That's helpful. If you want to go for it, you should, it is your last year." His spear clattered to the ground. He turned towards me in an instant, his hand hitting the metal chest. His brown eyes narrowed and he glared at me.

"Watch it, Clove. Don't you dare tell me what I'm gonna do, alright?" he hissed under his breath. I picked up my two knives and scarpered. There was no point fighting him, although I could probably beat him. I didn't want to waste my chances. It's the Reaping tomorrow.

My mother's gaunt face pressed up against the grimy window greeted me. As soon as she saw me coming towards the house, she ran towards the door and flung it open.

"Where have you _been_ Clove Grace Franklin? You good for nothin' daughter of mine, wanderin' off with _that _boy, messin' 'round with that damn volunteerin' plan of yours. I don't know why I don't jes' kill ya myself , The damned Capitol don't want ya!" My mother's cackling bounced down the street.

I got to the front door, pushed her inside and slammed the door.

"Shut up, ma! You don't want any Peacekeepers catching you!"

I made her sit down in the fire and made her watch the dancing flames. My little sister Libby came downstairs. I wasn't in the mood for her. It wasn't often Cato pissed me off but when he did, it hurt.

"Hey Clo-Clo!" she was too little, she couldn't even say my name right.

"What do you want?" I snapped at her, but Libby carried on, indifferent to my anger.

"You know, I think Dolly would like a coat. Do you think she would, Clo-Clo?"

"Just shut up!" I yelled, so hard that Libby jumped, but my mother didn't stop looking at the flames. I stormed off to my room, lying down on my bed trying to sleep. I could hear my mother's rusty voice rising through the floorboards.

"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run. Wait till the farmer gets his gun, gun, gun." I rolled over and pressed the pillow to my ears and slept.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

My mattress sunk with my mother sitting on it. It was late morning, the sun had risen, and the rays burst through my useless curtains. My mother stroked my hair from my face.

"Now," she whispered to me, "You ain't gonna go volunteerin'. I want nothin' happenin' to you like what happened to Claudia, and it'd be safer if you ain't gonna volunteer. 'Cause I knows that if you get picked, someone gonna replace you. So don't you worry, honey." I rolled my eyes and sighed.

I didn't know why my mother was so hell bent on making me not volunteer. I was eighteen, and definitely one of the strongest girls at the centre. I would win for sure. I mean, the seventy-fourth Hunger Games would be no difference to any other Hunger Games. The tributes from District One would be good fighters but ultimately stupid, with stupid names to match. District Three were clever, sure, but they hardly win. I mean, you can't kill someone with wire. District Four is often our biggest match but usually they either die at the Cornucopia or they are too weak to kill. I don't think much of Districts Five, Six, Seven, Eight and Nine. You can't say much about the outlying Districts. They can't have more than six victors between them.

Later in the afternoon, I stood in the eighteen year old girls section at the reaping. I had braided my hair quickly into a messy plait and wore the same sunshine yellow dress I had worn for the last two reapings. I hadn't seen Cato all day, and frankly I didn't care.

Our fluffy escort, Cadima Diva came on stage. Her hot pink hair looked like it had a whipped consistency and was piled high onto of her head. Her squeaky high pitched Capitol accent rang out.

"Welcome, welcome!" she announced; "Now my dearies, we have a _very_ special film to show you, and guess what? It's from President Snow _himself_!" A film started behind her. I knew it immediately. It was played every single year since my first reaping. It went on and on about the horrors of war blah, blah. I was almost asleep when it was finished.

"Right," Cadima squeaked, "Now for the girls, ladies first, I say!" She reached her hand in the girls bowl and behind her there was a close up of her hand in the bowl. Her fingernails had light pink mice on them. How ironic.

"Scarlett…"

I didn't let her finish.

"I volunteer," I cried.

"Come up, Come up!" she squeaked in excitement. I was led roughly to the stage. I climbed up the stone steps and Cadima handed me the microphone.

My eyes twinkled, a smile played upon my lips.

"Clove Franklin," I said.

A wave of cheers filled the crowd, and even a few wolf whistles.

"Right, now moving on to the gentlemen,"

Her mouse endowed fingers wiggled in the boy's reaping bowl. I wasn't particularly worried. Cato's name was only in the bowl six times. A six in a million chance, I told myself.

Cadmia tugged at a slip in the corner of the bowl.

"Cato Jakes"

Oh shit. Someone volunteer, please? The silence flooded the stage. No one calling out there name in protest or saying the usual 'I volunteer'. Reality hit me in the face like a wet dishcloth- no one would volunteer; Cato in the Hunger Games was an opportunity too good to miss. District Two would win for the third year running.

Cato came on stage, his blond hair mussed up with his confident smile playing on his lips. My blood turned to ice. My best friend was going to kill me.

"And here we have it District Two, your victors for the Seventy- Fourth Hunger Games. Clove Franklin and Cato Jakes. May the odds be _ever _in your favour,"

The way this was playing out, the odds weren't in my favour.

As we walked towards the justice building, Cato turned towards me, an evil glint in his eyes.

"Good luck trying to win, Clove, yet we both know it ain't worth it." He sneered, an evil, electric glint in his eyes.

"Still pissed off, Cato? I seriously don't give a shit!" I turned down a corridor in the Justice Building, pushed forward by Peacekeepers.

I got put in a velvet clad room. It was compact, but it had soft velvet lining on all the upholstery. The door opened, revealing my mother and sister. My mother stormed across the small room, and grabbed my ear in a fierce grip.

"Now what do you think your doin' girl! You're so stupid, and you'll end up like Claudia, dead as a doornail."

I shrugged my mother off, and turned towards Libby. I wanted to make up for yesterday. I bent down next to her.

"It's gonna be ok, Libby." I smoothed down her tangled black hair.

"Why are you saying that, Clo-Clo? Everything is always gonna be alright." My poor little sister, to young to understand, that the Games can be deadly if you don't play it right.

"Dolly will look after you, okay?" I say, trying to console her.

"Mummy says that you are going away. I think Dolly would like you to take her scarf." She takes out a terribly knitted red and white scarf that I made for her doll.

I take it and stuff it in my pocket. The peacekeeper knocks on the door, and leads my mother and sister away. No one will come for me now, my only friend being Cato. I have trouble making friends, as soon as they hear of my reputation as being the strongest girl at the training centre they either fear me or act like fans.

I sit down on the velvet couch and think about what my sister said her complete blindness to the Games. I thought the Games would be easy, but now Cato's playing, it's going to be tough to win. If I do die, I'd rather my mother bothered to tell my sister rather than leaving her to find out at school.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"I advise you watch the other reapings, to know what you're up against." said my mentor Enobaria, her gold sharp teeth flashing at me. They were a distraction, but they also glistened with what the Capitol offered. I was filled with a burning desire to win the seventy-fourth Hunger Games.

We were on the high speed train now and Cadmia had told me squeakily, that we would arrive in the Capitol tomorrow noon. I supposed I had time.

I walked onto the train's cinema; it was a long, dark room with a screen at one end of it. I padded silently towards a comfy black seat, switched on the TV and began to watch today's replays of the reapings.

In District 1, both volunteered but I didn't stop thinking that they would be easy to kill. Then came us, and while I looked demure but determined, Cato had a glare of pure evil on his face. In Districts 3 and 4 both looked like they'd die in the bloodbath. The District 4 tributes definitely were not trained and I doubted they would join us as allies. In District Five, I took no notice of the boy but the girl; she looked like she would be hard to kill off. No, she didn't look like she had killer instinct, but she looked like she could outwit us all.

The door opened a banged shut. I turned to face Cato his hair dishevelled still wearing his reaping clothes. He sat down on the couch next to me.

"I'm sorry, about yesterday," he muttered under his breath. Cato apologizes? In the seven years I had known him, he's never said sorry, or anything close.

"What?" I said my voice a whisper.

"Don't freak, Clove! I apologized! I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

We turned back to watch the reapings. I'd missed the clips of Districts 6,7,8,9 and 10. District 11 came up and a small girl came up on stage. She'd die first, I thought. They shouldn't let twelve year olds in the games, it's unfair. In my eighteen years of watching the reapings, I'd never seen a twelve year old win the Games. They just become prey.

An eighteen year old boy was chosen. He looked strong and muscular like he'd turn us into a pulp in an instant.

District 12 was last. I wasn't expecting much, District 12 is known as the failure of Panem. It had only won the Hunger Games twice, and one of their victors was dead, another, a drunkard. So I was surprised when the girl volunteered for her sister. That has never happened before, a volunteer from 12. If Libby was old enough I would do the same for her, but it's different in 2. Here we are trained. The girl looked like a scared rabbit on stage though as if she'd fall through the stone floor. The boy looked strong but would he be able to kill? I doubt it.

"Guess 12 is gonna kill us all!" I joked. Instead of laughing like normal, Cato turned to me, his eyes narrowed.

"You really don't get it do you Clove? It's not some little kid's game. If we die we insult our district! You don't want that do you? Your sister would be mocked because her sister couldn't stop that guy strangling her or got stupidly shot in the head at the Cornucopia."

I laughed at him even harder.

"Call yourself my best friend, Cato? Because that wouldn't happen! My mother would go mad with despair! She would probably get my sister taken off her or something." My voice turned sombre, dark, at the prospect of my little four year old sister being taken away from my mother. "So, I shall do anything, _anything_ to win these games."

Cato looked up from under his lashes. "Would that mean killing me Clove? We've been friends for years, and you would just kill me like that?"

"I've always been better at knife-throwing than you." I retorted.

"And I could spear you in a second, so don't you try anything." His old self was back. His weak moment was over, by the time we get to the Capitol, he'd be tough, ruthless and ready to go.

"So," I ventured, "Allies?"

"Sure," he said, "I get to kill the guy from seven though. His face irritates me."

I laughed and mocked slapping his shoulder.

"No, I get him and the girl from twelve."

He laughed at that, "Don't be greedy, Clove, I get Nine as well."

I grinned, "Both Nine? Are you a little two-faced Cato? Then I get the guy from twelve."

He smiled, "Just the boy from twelve, Clove, I didn't think that was your style!"

"Both eight, then!"

"I'll take four!"

"I'll take the girl from five!" We carried on this surreal banter till the clock struck twelve.

"I should go" I murmured, my voice heavy with sleep. I slipped out of the dark room and into the corridor.


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up to the warm scent of baking bread. My mother was making breakfast. I could imagine the scene unfolding downstairs, Libby playing with her doll and my mother kneading dough. Then I opened my eyes. It was the plush room on the train, the one that was supposedly mine.

"Urgh." I muttered, cracking my stiff joints.

I changed into a sleek grey top and jeans, and I padded down to the hall to the dining car.

The table was laden with breakfast goods, most of which their names sounded foreign to me, and I hadn't ever seen anything so bright.

It vaguely reminded me of the sweet shop in town, the one where Libby would always want 'just a little sweet'. The year she had turned three, she had got a year full of sweets. That year, I had said a silent thank you to the Hunger Games for giving us food and prosperity. If we had no Capitol, we would quickly starve.

Cato was sitting at the table, he grinned at me; I sat down next to him. Almost as soon as I had sat down, he whispered in my ear, his warm breath heated up my cheek. "Try the cocoa, Clove, it's like gold dust."

I reached over to the end of the table for a gold pot. As I poured it into my cup, the dark rich aroma hit me in the face. I stared wide-eyed in amazement, I didn't think anything could smell this good. I drank some eager for more of this dark intensity, and I got creamy bittersweet liquid that gently flooded my mouth.

"Woah," I breathed.

Cato smiled, "Great isn't it? If I had known the food was this good I would've volunteered a long time ago." I smiled at that comment, remembering when we were at the training centre, years ago.

"_Come on Dmitri, if I get this in the guy's heart, you'll pay me in food?" Cato coaxed. Our trainer, Dmitri, looked up at him from sharpening the knives. _

"_Fat chance, Cato, if you ever get to compete, then begging for food is a big no- no, the other tributes will have your head on a spike before you could say 'bread'. Understand?" Cato frowned, creating a line in between his eyebrows. _

_I stood up, grabbed two sharp knives and tossed one to Cato. _

"_I think, Dmitri, if Cato manages to beat me, the best knife thrower in the whole of District 2, he should get a bread roll." I proposed_

"_A bread roll!" Cato cried in protest, "I think I deserve more than that! What about some turkey?"_

"_Turkey?" I laughed, Cato was such a moron. Turkey was so high priced these days and it was hard to find. _

"_Yeah, turkey, if I'm gonna beat you Miss best-knife-thrower-in-District-two, I need a better prize than a bread roll."_

_Needless to say, Cato lost._

Enobaria and Brutus came into the room, and they sat down opposite us.

"Right, are both of you trained? Otherwise, we would have to go back to square one," asked Brutus gruffly. We both nodded.

In District 2, it is considered normal to train when you are young, in preparation for the Games. It's technically against the rules but the Peacekeepers in Two were born there, and so they turn a blind eye at any preparation for the Games. Every year I find it endlessly amusing that the other districts refer to us as 'Careers', like its our job to train but really it's not.

"OK," Enobaria carried on for him, "Then I suppose you two will be allies?"

"Yeah," I said

"OK, I figure you two have already decided that."

"We've known each other for a while," admitted Cato. For a moment, Enobaria's eyes dropped to the table, but she quickly looked at us again.

"So, the plan is, you two team up with the District 1's. I doubt you could team up with four this year. So, Clove, what are your skills?"

"Um," I muttered, "Well, I suppose I'm good at hand to hand combat, uh, I can throw knives pretty well, I suppose…"

"You suppose!" Cato laughed, "She's one of the best!"

Enobaria turned on Cato. I suppose she didn't like favouritism between tributes.

"Cato Jakes! I've heard a lot about you! So your skills are?" Enobaria snapped like an angry school teacher.

Cato scowled, got up from the table and spat viciously at her, "Guess you'll find out."

He turned and slammed open the door, closing it with a crash.

Enobaria scowled, "Temper issues?" she muttered, forgetting I was here, "That boy's gonna either have trouble in the Games or he's gonna kill all his allies in the first day."

Brutus nodded, and said, "Well, let's hope that he's quick thinking when he's angry, a violent disposition is useless if he can't think."

I silently slipped from my chair. I didn't particularly like my friend to be viewed in this way but I hated the way they ignored me. It was obvious that both Enobaria and Brutus saw Cato as the victor and me with not a fighting chance. I vowed I would prove them wrong. I would win the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, even if I had to kill Cato by my own blade.


	5. Chapter 5

People, Capitol citizens, were cheering our names, loud and clear. Their clothes were odd and garish, but I couldn't help liking these people. They treated us like one of them, we felt like we belonged. Still, they were pretty irritating, especially when you tried to get off the train. It was so easy to get lost in this swarm of rainbow coloured bees.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, we found our way out of the crowd, who had now forgotten about us, but getting ready for the arrival of Three.

Cadima sighed, fussing with her wig, (now a putrid colour of mustard yellow).

"I suppose your stylists will want you now, we need to be prepared and keep to this schedule. I'm _sure _you don't want to be late."

Cadima was far too uppity about that damn schedule; we weren't going to be late. Earlier, I had admired Capitol citizens, but now, I only admired the ones that admired me. I guess Cadima was off the list of 'Capitol people I admired'.

We walked to the training centre, along pastel coloured streets with apartments shaped like jelly babies.

When we got there, we took so many corridors and rights and lefts that I couldn't remember where we had come. Apparently, that's one of my weaknesses. I am awful with directions.

Soon, I was alone, Cadima had gone to the apartment, Enobaria had left and Cato was standing in front of his own iron door. I lifted my hand to knock the golden majestic lion, but the door was opened to reveal my prep team. My prep team were by far the weirdest Capitol citizens I had seen. One was bright scarlet with a gold tree forming between the eyebrows, the branches branching out into her gold hair. Another had pink lights embedded in her skin. The third and final one had orange tattoos running up and down his body, his ears pinned back with two giant silver pins.

"Let's see what we have here," said the scarlet one.

"Nice legs, pretty short though. Shame about her fingernails," muttered the orange one. I blushed and remembered that I barely had any fingernails left. Another weakness, I bite my fingernails.

"Ooh, someone better turn that blush button _off_!" squeaked the pink lighted one. If I had my knives, I thought, I could murder all of you before you even knew I had a blade. Calm down, Clove! Remember what Dmitri told you? Last Monday…last Monday, I thought as I struggled to remember.

"_Remember Clove; however they react to you, however they scrutinise you, however much they make fun of you for being smaller than average, don't react."_

"_What! How can I not react? That's-"_

"_Shut up, Clove. Ever since you told me you gonna volunteer, I had high hopes for you. But if you let that sarcasm and the anger and the quick temper out before the Games you're in big trouble before the games even start. Shall I tell you why?"_

_I stared at my chewed up nails. "Go on, tell me why." I whispered, grudgingly._

"_Because, if you act like that before the Games, you want to know what's gonna happen? They'll work you out Clove; they'll figure your weaknesses, your strengths and your fears. You're like that Clove, easy to figure out."_

_I scowled. "I am not easy to figure out!"_

_I threw the closest thing to me at him- a knife, the kind six year olds practice with, and the handle flew perfectly into Dmitri's open fist. _

"_Like I said, so easy to figure out," Dmitri stood up from his sitting position on the floor. He returned the knife back to the box._

"_You know what I want to know?" I snapped at him_

"_What, Clove?" his voice sounded strained. _

"_Why are me and you strategizing about the Games, when it should be you and Cato? Tell me that? I mean Cato's victor material. Cato's admired through out the entirety of the district-"_

"_You're admired too-"_

"_For only being his friend! He hasn't even said if he's volunteering this year or what! It's not like all the other years, I mean last year we decided not to volunteer, the year before that he tried to but got beaten by some other kid! I don't get it Dmitri, aren't we meant to be friends?"_

"_Cato's had a lot on his plate recently-"_

"_Like what!" I snapped_

"_Go ask Cato yourself if you are that interested." Dmitri told me, even though we knew 'asking Cato' wouldn't get us anywhere. If Cato wanted you to know something he'd tell you, if you asked him something that he didn't want to tell you, you'd more likely get a black eye than answers._

I wasn't particularly aware of the prep team manipulating my body, ready for my stylist. The memories, the fresher or the harsher they were the better. I remember the day when dad left, two years ago.

"_You know I can't deal with it anymore! You and your damn Claudia!" shouted my father._

"_Claudia! You know they took her, don't you?" wailed my mother. _

"_If you haven't noticed, Beatrice, Claudia died twenty years ago," my dad snapped at her. My mother gave my father a glare that could awake the dead. _

"_I mean," dad carried on, "were you there when Clove had to go to training?"_

Another memory bled into another, and I was eleven again.

"_I really, really don't want to go Dad!" I cried, as I put on my old boots._

"_Sorry, you have to go," said my dad as if sorry was a worthwhile explanation. I didn't bother asking why, going to training equated to less tesserae I had to take and the trainers often gave us food at the training centres, enough for us and our families. _

"_You know Kiddo, it's gonna be fun." Dad told me. _

_I liked that, Dad called me Kiddo. To everyone else I was Clove Franklin, Clove or just Franklin. My mother didn't call me 'Kiddo', or anything like that, she called me by my full name, Clove Grace Franklin. Ever since I was about five, I have detested my middle name, what was 'graceful' about me anyway? _

"_But," I sighed, talking about Claudia was taboo in our house. "But, what about…" what about Auntie Claudia I was going to say._

"_Yeah, kiddo?" asked Dad_

"_Nothing," I mumbled_

"_We'd better go, don't wanna be late." My dad told me._

Rip! My leg stung like crazy, reality had leaked into my brain.

"That was the last one," said the scarlet one, I think she was called Perdita.

"Right, I think you're ready for Diana, your stylist." The orange one told me.

Minutes later, they left to get my stylist. I was left alone in this room with the weird contraptions for beautifying yourself.

I wasn't really excited about the Capitol anymore. All the Capitol citizens I had met seemed shallow and narrow minded. In our district, the Capitol is seen as the centre of creativity, of fashion, of writing, of government. All of a sudden I became unsure of what I was doing here. Did I volunteer to get away from my mother? To bring glory to our district? I don't know why I volunteered, but I knew now, I'd rather be at home, training or telling stories to Libby or fighting with Cato.

But I wasn't going to let this show. I wasn't the Clove who was afraid of death, the one who'd rather be at home, and the one who didn't give a damn about eternal glory. I was the Clove with the knives, the Clove who could kill in an instant, the Clove who actually wanted to be here. To be that Clove I would have to put on a façade, a mask. And then I would win the seventy-fourth Hunger Games. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A woman with pearly skin entered, and with what looked like a dead swan placed on her head.

"Oh, _darling_!" she cried. I winced, darling? Seriously? I'd better get used to Capitol traditions fast, I thought.

"What have that prep team _done_ to you? When I say Beauty Base Zero, I mean Beauty Base Zero!" The woman, who I assumed was Diana, my stylist, whined.

I didn't really know what the fuss was about, I hadn't looked in the mirror since the prep team had been let loose on my body.

"Clove, right, _darling_?" she asks

"Yeah," I said

"My name's Diana and I am your stylist, _darling_."

"Ok." I muttered, unsure of how to react with this weird woman.

Diana was putting the last touches onto my costume. She swung a full length mirror towards me. I was wearing a tunic type thing, with what I could only suppose was a failed attempt at a stone look. Instead of the mottled browns and greys on white as I was so used to at home, it looked like bird poop.

"One more thing,_ darling_!" Diana trilled. She disappeared into another room, and I rolled my eyes, praying that our costumes would not be as bad as some of the others.

"I'm back, _darling_!" called Diana

"Don't you just love it, _darling_?" she asked gesturing to a golden helmet.

"Yes," I lied, it was a heavy looking ghastly thing, "But what has it exactly got to do with my District?"

"Oh, _darling_, it shows your District as being strong!" Diana almost shrieked with pleasure. What I have I done to deserve this, I thought. Diana put my helmet on me, fussing with my hair.

"What have we done to deserve this?" I moaned to Cato, we were with all the chariots and other tributes. Cato looked as stupid as I did with exactly the same get up as me.

"Our stylists were so…_imaginative_ this year." I said dryly

"Yeah, but look at District 9," Cato commented, "I mean what are they meant to be?"

District Nine were standing next to their carriage awkwardly, in sparkly, studded costumes.

"Aren't they meant to be grain?" I asked Cato

"Yeah, but we all know that the designers are always crap," said a girl behind us. A tall, blonde, voluptuous girl stood behind us. I bet her prep team didn't have to do _anything _to her.

She grinned, her full lips showed pearly white teeth, "Glimmer,"

"Clove, and this" I indicated to Cato behind me, "is my district partner, Cato."

Her eyes lit up as soon as I mention his name.

"Ooh," she grinned, "Neat outfit."

She sauntered off, towards her district mate. What exactly just happened? She's going to die, and she's checking out Cato? I thought.

"Not. In. My. Lifetime." I muttered, under my breath.

"Huh," asked Cato

"The Chariots," I lied, "We're gonna be going in a bit."

That bitch from district One? I'll be the first to break our alliance, which I am assuming will involve her. Then, hopefully I shall I have at least one shiny dagger, and slit her throat. Bloodthirsty thoughts- think nice happy, bloodthirsty thoughts, like Dmitri told me.

Districts one's chariot left first. As it went past I scowled at the girl and boy, both looked ridiculous in bright neon pink and blue feathers. Then our chariot left. We both stared directly in front of us, utterly detached from the world.

The crowd cheered our names, the sound merely a thud in our ears. We stared up at the podium not breaking our gaze with the most important Capitol citizens, President Snow included.

A gasp behind us broke our gaze, and we turned around. District Twelve, held each other's hands high above their heads. The girl held a crimson rose. The boy smiled. And there was a great inferno behind them, their costumes were on fire. They were the great spectacle of this year's Chariot Parade, not us, District Two, with our predictable costumes and our formidable gaze. Them, I thought, scowling at them especially the girl, they were going to get the sponsors this year, if they make that much of an impact with the crowd.

Let's hope Diana can come up with something a little better for the interviews. What a lot of false hope.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry that I haven't been uploading very frequently, I have masses of art-prep to do. However, soon, I shall be uploading a draco fanfic :)  
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**xoxoxox  
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**ohsosexyfoxhat  
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Chapter 7

I stood in the line to the knife throwing stand. I'll show them, I thought. I'll show them why I'm here. A district seven girl threw her knife so badly that it forced its self into the wall behind the targets. She turned, biting her lip, maybe because she realised that she's as good as dead. Now it's my turn. A trainer in a blue suit asked me how hard I would want the knife throwing to be. The hardest, I thought, no, almost impossible. I'd show the district seven girl how right she was, that she really has no chance.

A metallic beep sounded in my ears. The targets moved quickly in every direction. In every single one, I got my blade through the heart. Then, the targets, started to demand three knives at a time, like they did in the training centre back home. I easily flung my trio of knives from my hands as if I was setting free birds. All of the knives find home.

"Right, the next one." The trainer smiled at me as I left, probably realising that at least someone's got a chance in these games.

A clock, somewhere in this building, or maybe outside, signalled that it was one o' clock. Almost like magic, everyone got up from where they were, and walked towards the cafeteria. Cato with Marvel and-urgh- Glimmer join me.

"How was the knives?" Marvel asked, he, Glimmer and Cato had been throwing spears, which unlike throwing knives, was definitely not my forte.

"Good," I said, "Terrifying all the other Tributes, kinda makes this stupid training worth it,"

"Too damn right," added Cato, "I speared a couple of dummies, and a little kid from 3 looked like he would wet himself."

"Could you help me with my spear throwing, Cato?" asked Glimmer flirtatiously.

"Ever thrown a knife before?" I asked.

"Oh yes, of course. But I am as terrible with knives as I am with spears. I am a more bow and arrow and hand to hand combat kind of girl."

Of course you are, I thought to myself. I ignored her and we headed towards a table, I made sure to pick up a basket of bread along the way. I set it on the table and we all lounged around, as we nibbled at our bread.

About halfway through our lunch, two small kids from District Four came to join us. The boy looked about thirteen and had wild mane like hair, and the girl was very ordinary, with mousy brown hair, average height, and muddy brown eyes.

"C-can we sit here?" stuttered the boy.

"If you must," growled Cato, sounding almost territorial.

They sat down and picked out the loaves from District Four, disgusting salty green bread.

"So," said Glimmer, a stick of bread in her hand, District One's loaf. "Who's your mentor?"

"Uh, Ophelia," said the girl, who I'd learnt was called Coral.

"Yeah, I haven't got Ophelia, but I have got Finnick mentoring me." The boy interrupted

"Finnick Odair, huh?"

"Um, yeah," said the kid.

"Good looking?" Glimmer asked, directing the question at Coral.

"Well, he's nicer looking then any other guys I've met," muttered Coral.

"I wish I had a mentor like him, strong, sexy all the things you want in a man, I mean, a mentor."

Glimmer was desperate and shallow, rather like all the things my father accused my mother of being before he left her.

"_My dear Claudia, I was gonna protect you! And I failed." My mother was sitting on the floor of the kitchen, banging a saucepan onto the floor every few seconds. I was sitting at the kitchen table pretending to read a leaflet that the Training Centre had given me._

_I had given up trying to help her, my mother lost her mind almost every day, and when she didn't she was warning me with a beating with her kitchen spoon. Then the door slammed, and my father was home, from a long day at the mine. He entered the kitchen, barely able to say 'Hi Kiddo,' before my mother started off again. Their marriage was breaking apart. As a fifteen year old, I was able to recognise it. My mother had been like this for 20 years. As soon as her sister was declared dead in the bloodbath of the 52nd Hunger Games, she went mad. The Capitol only offered help to victors, so my mother wasn't helped._

_My father had always had a soft spot for her at seventeen, before Claudia was killed. When he married her he promised he'd look after her. And, to be honest he did, but in the year my sister was born it turned from bad to worse. My mother wouldn't look at Libby, and began to abuse my father. First, she scratched his palms when he held her hand, but then she got more and more violent. It was the last straw when she pushed him down the stairs, twisting his ankle. So, my father slept on the sofa._

"_Tomas!" she cried, "You let them!"_

_My father stopped at the door._

"_What?" he hissed inaudibly_

"_You let them kill her! She was so young! So young and it's your entire fault!" screamed my mother._

"_You know what, Beatrice? You disgust me. When this first happened, I thought you were ill; we went to the doctors, an entire week's wages down the drain. He said you were fine, just delusional, and it should go away within a year. So it did, and only a few times a year it was this bad. Then we had Clove, and everything was okay. Now, a year after Libby you're threatening to kill me, thinking I murdered your sister, which was twenty years ago. I don't know my own wife anymore, I'm terrified she's gonna kill me or kill our kids or kill herself. You're doing this so people notice ya? Well, that's jus' a joke. A big, fat joke. 'Coz haven't you noticed, Beatrice, that kids cross to the opposite side of the street when you're coming, people don't go shopping on a Thursday because that's when you do." he shouted "Is this for attention?" _

_And at that moment, a baby's wails pierced the stale air._

We finished lunch, and carried on training. The same happened the next day, it was mundane. However, it was the skeleton of my old life, but now the bones were pressing all the oxygen out of my lungs, and all the blood out of my heart.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

There were twenty two of us left now; Marvel had left a while ago. A nasal female voice leaked out from hidden speakers.

"Clove Franklin, District 2."

I got up and I wiped my sweaty palms on my blue tracksuit bottoms. Cato grinned at me, half sticking his tongue out.

"What?" I asked irritably

"Scared, Clove?" he sneered

My eyes narrowed, "No, 'course not. You're just shitting yourself 'cause you're scared that I'll do better then you."

I stormed down the hall towards the exit.

"Clove," shouted Cato. I whizzed around so fast my ponytail hit me in the face.

"Good luck!" he hollered. I grinned, and turned towards the Training Area.

I entered the training room, and I saw the Gamemakers sitting above me, lounging on chaises longues, and eating colourful fruits. I stood right beneath them, and they all sat up from their chairs, putting their food on little tables that were next to each chair.

"Clove Franklin from District 2," I announced myself.

I walked over to the knife throwing section and turned on the machine to _'Almost impossible'. _I flung the knives, sometimes five at a time, and they all hit the middle perfectly. Then, the last knife, I aimed badly, something which I hardly did, and I realised it would hit the shoulder of the dummy. Without thinking I jumped and kicked the knife towards the heart. It stuck to the heart, and the machine clicked loudly and turned off.

I stood in front of the Gamemakers, waiting for a response.

"Clove Franklin of District Two, you may leave," said one with blue fluffy hair.

I left, and took the elevator to the District Two floor. There I met with Enobaria and Brutus who were waiting for me and Cato to return.

"How did you think it went?" asked Enobaria

"Alright, I hope, I almost destroyed my chances, but I think it went ok," I said

About an hour and a half later, the results were going to be shown on Capitol TV. Cato had come back ages ago; about ten minutes after I did, looking as if he'd got exactly what he'd wanted.

The Capitol anthem sounded on TV, and Caesar Flickerman appeared on screen with his powder blue hair.

"Welcome Panem!" his voice boomed, "Tonight is a very special night, and we will show all of our twenty-four glorious tributes' training scores!"

Caesar Flickerman faded out of the screen, and instead we saw Glimmer's face, smiling triumphantly, and her annoying blond hair coming down in wisps over her face.

"Glimmer Jeweliss, of District One, with a score of 9," boomed Flickerman

9, I thought, I hoped I would get a higher score.

Marvel's face appeared on the screen.

"Marvel Roguerman from District One, with a score of 9,"

Better get a better score then nine, I thought.

My face appeared, my mousy brown hair falling into my hazel eyes.

"Clove Franklin, of District Two," there was a pause, and I couldn't breathe. "10."

I had got the highest score yet, I grinned to myself.

"Well done, Clove," said Enobaria, "10 is a really good score."

Cato's shoulder nudged me, "Well done, I guess you weren't shitting yourself." He whispered

Cato's face materialised, with a confident grin on his face, almost mirroring the same face that sat beside me.

"Cato Jakes, District 2, with a score of 10,"

Cato was laughing and he pulled me into a hug, "Both tens, this is great, Clove,"

Sometimes Cato seemed to forget that only one person comes out of these games.

Three's tributes came up. The girl got a three and the boy got a four. I smiled, easy prey, I thought. District Four came up, sometimes Four's tributes were trained, and sometimes they weren't. Coral got a good mark, which was surprising, she got a seven but the boy got a three.

The rest of the marks became a blur, just numbers flashing on a screen. Then finally, District Twelve. The boy, who apparently, when I was throwing knives, threw a weight at a rack of spears knocking them over. I'm not too worried about the girl-why should I be?

"And now, District Twelve! Peeta Mellark, receives an 8." Thankful that he didn't beat me, I wasn't too anxious about the girl.

"Katniss Everdeen, tribute from Twelve, receives an 11." I dropped the glass I was holding.

"What the hell just happened?" I asked rhetorically, as I stormed to my room.

Katniss Everdeen can't beat me. I won't let that happen. No effing way. I'll kill her so fast she won't know what's coming. She's from District Twelve, she's got nothing to prove.

I buried my head in my arms. I really had to beat this bitch. My door swung open, Cato walked in, his t-shirt crumbled and his hair messed up. He sat next to me on my bed, his arm grazing mine.

"What was that, Clove?" he asked almost gently

"She can't fricking win. She can't. You don't understand. I've never wanted to kill someone so badly in my life. Not even Ma."

And Cato just sat there digesting my words, my spiky, prickly words that would eventually do so much damage.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"And now," Caesar's voice announced, "Our lovely lady from Two, Clove Franklin!"

I stepped on the stage, the lights blinding me. I saw the tiered seats in the background, a rainbow of wigs and hats. I walked awkwardly to the stage, uncomfortable in alien heels that Diana had forced my feet into earlier. I saw a large seat next to Caesar, and sat down in it. The cheers and squawks of laughter buzzed, hummed and silenced.

"So Clove, are you enjoying yourself in the Capitol?" asked Caesar

"No, not really," I said, the words dripping with sarcasm, "The once-in-a-lifetime-chance, the food, the people, the atmosphere is a bit run-of-the-mill,"

The whole audience filled with a resounding high pitched laughter, like a metallic hum from a beehive.

"You surprised the Gamemakers due to your size, a ten in training, would you like to tell us a little about that?"

"Sure," I mused, "It has nothing to do with size. Size is simply a denomination. If you are small, you have to be smart, you have to be quick and you cannot risk being stupid. From then on, it's easy."

"So do you think you have a chance in this year's Games?"

"I have a bigger chance then most of them. I didn't volunteer due to desperation. I volunteered to win."

"Thank you Clove, but it looks like you're out of time. Ladies and Gentlemen, Clove Franklin!"

I stood up, a little less uncomfortable in my heels and returned to my seat, which were raised platforms just behind the stage.

Cato left his seat just as I returned to mine, and you could hear the claps and cheers, signalling that Cato had walked onto the stage.

"Cato, would you like to tell us about your impressive score?"

"Yeah, if you wanna get a ten, you have strength, cunning, charisma. You have to try, you have to impress."

"So what did you do to gain your ten?"

"Something more amazing than you could imagine, Caesar."

"Cato, how are you feeling about this year's Games?"

Cato grinned, a tell-tale sign that he was going to tell the crowd that the other Tributes have no chance.

"I'm ruthless, prepared, and ready to go. These Games will be the biggest challenge in my life, one which I will overcome."

The three minute buzzer sounded, and Caesar had to shut down Cato's post-victory speech.

"Thank you Cato, may the odds be _ever_ in your favour. Ladies and Gentlemen," Caesar shouted, "Cato Jakes!"

Cato returned to his seat next to me. "How did I do?" he asked

"Good," I said absentmindedly realising that with an interview like that, out of District one and two; Cato was probably going to win.

"You okay, Clove?" asked Cato, as he said the stupidest thing.

"Sure," I lied, "I'm fine,"

Cato mocked sulking, but then in all seriousness, said "You're not fine, Clove. Something's bugging you." He left the conversation hanging, and he turned back to the interviews. Cato, like me, didn't like emotions or insecurities showing. When you're trained from a young age, you quickly realise that all of that is impossible. To win these Games you have to be like stone. And Cato had definitely not turned into marble yet, no, he was still Cato Jakes, my friend for seven years, mentor and opponent. But soon, he'd have to become Cato, the male Tribute from district two, and block off his feelings completely and constantly.

And then, I couldn't help myself. I stared at my best friend, Cato, for what seemed like ages. Sure, I could spout about how in the Games, emotions are unnecessary, and that's what I was, or hoped to be. Now I was being a right hypocrite, and noticing things about Cato that I had never had noticed before, for example, there is a tiny freckle in between his right eye and his nose. His lips jut out ever so slightly, and his jaw is a harsh crisp edge.

_God, Clove,_ I thought. _Why am I noticing all these things about Cato? Is it because of these Games? Or...? _My mind whirred. _I can't be falling for him! Seriously Clove? Take an eighteen year old girl whose friend is a (very) good looking guy_. _Enter them both into the seventy fourth Hunger Games and see what happens. Cato, a love interest? Don't be stupid! _I shook the idea away from my mind_. Stupid Clove, you don't _**like**_ Cato! It's just being….protective 'cause of the Games. Yeah, that's right the Games…_

My cheeks blossomed into an undiluted tomato red. I pretended I had dropped something under the table, and stayed under there till my cheeks had sufficiently lessened in colour.

"You OK, Clove? You disappeared for a moment there,"

"Um, yeah," I lied; no I _wasn't _OK, "I just lost my shoe,"

"Yeah," said Cato displaying his signature grin, "Diana would kill you if you lost that shoe,"

"Uh-huh," I weakly agreed, all my attention taken away from the conversation and onto the stage. Katniss Everdeen had walked onto the stage.

She sits down next to Caesar in a dress which I am wildly jealous about. I get a peach tutu, for crying out loud and she gets a beautiful jewelled ball gown. _Bitch_, I thought bitterly.

"So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District 12. What's impressed you most since you arrived here?" Caesar asked

Katniss was silent for a while, and I realised she's got stage fright. The impulse to giggle was so great; I had to clamp down my tongue with my teeth. The metallic sting of blood filled my mouth.

"The lamb stew," Katniss muttered

Caesar responded with vigour, I on the other hand concentrated on swallowing the copious amount of blood that had filled my mouth, without looking suspicious.

When I return back to the world of the people-who-didn't-have–half-a-litre-of-blood -in-their-mouths, Katniss was spinning and her dress was on fire. The audience was completely entranced, they looked way more interested than when I told them that I was basically going to kill everyone. I scowled in anger; a girl from District Twelve was going to get more sponsors than me. I almost buried my head in shame.

She glossed over her eleven in training, not bothering to go into it. _Shame_, I though, _I could've figured out her strengths and weaknesses. _

I realise Katniss and I have one similarity, and one alone. We both have sisters we care about more than anything. Hers is called Prim. Mine is called Libby. Then it clicked. I had to kill Katniss Everdeen. It was no longer desire, but it was need. I wanted to help Libby grow up and anyway this Prim girl was already pretty much grown up. If Katniss Everdeen kills me, she doesn't only kill me, but my little impressionable sister. What would my mother do to my poor four-year-old sister? Nothing, is the answer you are looking for. She'd rather leave my sister in the gutter than comfort her. And my father? I haven't seen him in over a year.

Katniss' district partner comes on the stage. Caesar announced him as Peeta Mellark. He came on stage, an easy bounce in his walk, and sat down and chatted to Caesar as if he was talking to an old friend. Then Caesar effortlessly moves the conversation on to girls. Peeta, this time tries to brush off the question until Caesar squeezes the answer out of him. And without knowing, Peeta's answer becomes a ticking bomb. If he has a girl at home, he'll immediately get more sponsors. If he doesn't, no worries, he is just a regular tribute.

Peeta sighs, finally, I thought, "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping." The Capitol audience fills with words of sorrow, just like how I predicted.

Caesar, reacted, still trying to amaze the crowds with Peeta's confession of young love.

"She have another fellow?"

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her," responded Peeta, sounding like a hurt animal.

"So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" said Caesar. I snorted, Peeta, winning? Sure, the kid can throw stuff, but I highly doubt he can kill.

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning…won't help in my case,"

Caesar looked mystified, "Why ever not?"

Peeta blushed almost as badly as I did earlier, and stammered, "Because…because…she came here with me."

And that's when the bomb of hope explodes right in my face.

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**Feel free to review- they make me happy and I will (most likely) upload further chapters quicker. Have a good day and DFTBA (Don't forget to be awesome)~ ohsosexyfoxhat**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

If I had been at home, there would've been a moon. My window faces the South Side River, where the men sift through it to find rare metals to ship off to District One. The moon rises by the South Side River, pieces of light threading through the huge cedars that block off the town from the mine. The moon-threads sew themselves into an embroidery piece, and it attaches itself to the window. But I wasn't at home, I was at the Capitol where raw excitement floods into your room, and neon lights brighten up the floor.

It was hard to sleep, the adrenaline, fear and excitement bubbled over, like a vat of pasta that was left inside of me. I lay on my side as I watched the crowds swirl outside the window.

The door creaked a little, I didn't move, I thought it must have been my imagination. Then I heard footsteps creeping towards my bed and I stiffened slightly. It sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I need to tell you something Clove," Cato whispered to himself. _Cato? What was he doing here?_ I figured to pretend I was asleep.

"I dunno," he began, "Maybe you've been wondering why I didn't volunteer this year. Maybe you're wondering why I haven't said anything about it to you. Or maybe you are wondering why I was so weird on the train."

Cato took a deep breath, as if he were sucking all the oxygen in the room.

"I know, I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but as you're gonna be my ally and you're my best friend, you should know. You've got it hard, Clove, I get it, I understand. You've got a mother who's a lunatic and doesn't love you, a father who left a year ago, so you're left to mind a four-year-old. That's tough. It's a hard life to live. Mine's tougher, harder. You get burdened so easily. Why bother you with things you don't understand or know? Why worry you?" Cato had never spoken openly about his life before. Anytime I'd ask he'd gloss over the issue or he'd punch me. I once asked if he had a sister. I had a black eye for weeks.

"When I was seven years old, everything was OK. My family were poor, but happy. We lived on the other side of town. Dad worked in the mines. Ma looked after the kids. Then, when I was seven and a half, an epidemic broke out, you remember don't you, Clove?" Sure I remembered. It was the flu, rubbing out people like chalk. My father lost his brother and all his nephews and nieces. It attacked near the North Side River the worst, though. Most people knew a wife, husband, brother or sister that had died.

"Well, yeah. The flu wipes out my mother, and two of the little kids. Then it's just my father and my younger sister. We lived OK, until I was eleven when I had to join the centre. My father was walking home from the mine. Three times in the chest someone stabbed him. Three, Clove. What kind of a bastard does that?" Cato's voice slightly broke as he said that.

"He was dead, and then I was an orphan with a nine year old sister to look after .So, the only option was to carry on training. I was the breadwinner now, see? I went to the training centre, training with Dmitri, where I met you. That was a good day in my shitty life! So everything was OK, until now. Last year, I wanted to wait till I was eighteen before volunteering. That was until, Keena, my sister, got sick. Really sick, and I couldn't get a doctor, so I was always late." I remembered that now, sometimes on the weekends, when you were meant to be at the training centre really early, he showed up two hours later. Dmitri never had a go at him for it either.

"So, uh, last week, no, two weeks ago she got worse. She was sicker than before, so finally with some money I'd saved up over the years, I got a doctor to come. And what happens? The idiot tells me there's nothing I can do, and her illness has progressed to her brain. Damn doctor didn't even tell me what was wrong with her. All he does is say that she's got a week left. So I go back on my plan to volunteer. A lifetime worth of glory is nothing to missing your only living relative's last days. Last words. Whatever." Cato sniffed-_had he been, crying? Na, _I shook the thoughtaway_. Cato didn't cry. _

"Well, yeah, so now you know I guess. Clove, I…" I drifted off to sleep, my eyelids slamming shut, my dreams drowning out Cato's voice.

I didn't think that Cato was a hopeless romantic. Moreover, when I woke up I found myself wondering why Cato had to tell me those things when I was _asleep _of all things, why couldn't he just say it to my face. Was it because he was wary of my reaction? Was it because he didn't really want to tell me but _had to _tell me? Was it to strengthen his chances in the Games with a strong dependable ally? I didn't know, but I was sure I was gonna find out.

* * *

******* I do realise that Cato volunteered for the Games. I wanted this side of the story to have a little more depth than just Cato volunteering, and I know it strays a little from the book, but I don't care. :D**

***I just read 'The Perks of being a wallflower', and I loved it and can't wait to watch the film adaptation! Any of you guys read it/ excited for it's film release?  
**

***Also,I'm extremely excited about the Olympics!  
**

**Please leave a review after reading because they make me less lazy, so I post the following chapter quicker. Otherwise, have a good day, DFTBA  
**

**- ohsosexyfoxhat  
**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I woke up; feeling oddly energized, and got changed, someone had laid out some clothes for me. A black tank top and khakis, and simple trainers. It doesn't tell us anything about the Arena of course.

I walked down the hallway, and everyone is already having breakfast. I sat down and pile my plate full of breads and meats, so hopefully I'll go without food for a while in the Arena. No one talked, and the silence was eerie.

Enobaria finally broke the silence, "We'd better go to the hovercraft."

Enobaria guided me to the roof, where a huge hovercraft was gently humming. She turned to face me, and bent down a little so she was looking in my eyes.

"OK, we are a little early but that's all right. Now, when you're at the Cornucopia, find your weapons immediately, or rely on Cato or the others to throw you some. You do not want to be injured or killed so early on in the games. Now, listen. I want you to find as many knives as you can. If there aren't any, I'm sure a sponsor will give you some."

"Ok, and, uh, thanks, for your help and stuff." I mumbled

"That's OK, Clove. Now you'd better go."

I turn and leave towards the hovercraft and realised that maybe that was the last time I would see Enobaria.

I was just about to go into the Arena and Diana was fussing. Again.

"Here's your jacket, Clove, _darling._" She said, thrusting a rust red jacket in my direction. I caught it, and put it on.

"Shoes, of course, _darling_." She handed me a pair of thick leather boots.

"30 seconds." A cool female voice above us announced.

"Give me a _big _hug, _darling_." Diana said, excitement flooding her eyes.

"No." I said. I walked into the capsule. Diana's mascara streamed down her cheeks, and a feeble hand beat the glass between me and her. I grinned to myself, and the capsule began to slowly rise up. I licked my lips. _There's gonna be a real show today_, I thought.

The sunlight hits my eyes, and I smell the deep earthy scent of the trees, and it reminds me of home. A booming voice echoed in the Arena, Caesar Flickerman's.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games begin!"

The next sixty seconds are an agonizing wait. The adrenaline that moved around my veins actually caused pain because I'm forced to stand on this podium for _sixty seconds. _The Cornucopia, a huge silver horn- very Capitol- is piled full of everything you would possibly need. One of the boxes was open. I couldn't make it out from the distance I was at, but it seemed as if it had knives. Not the boring table knives either. Beautiful shiny objects with intricately carved blades, enough for a quick death or for a masochistic torture. I knew who I had that in store for. Katniss Everdeen. I'm directly opposite her. If she joins in at the bloodbath, she'll have no chance, if she runs away, I'll still murder her.

The last ten seconds awaited me. "Ten." The tribute next to me fidgeted. "Nine." I spotted Cato three tributes ahead of me. "Eight." He saw me and grinned. "Seven" In response I scowled. "Six" His grin became wider. "Five." I nodded towards the box of knives. "Four." Cato mouthed something like, 'Yeah go get them,' "Three." I gestured to some spears on the ground. "Two." He nodded as if to say 'I know'. "One." "Zero."

We ran towards the Cornucopia like bees to honey, and we swarmed towards the treasures that lay within the glittering mouth.

I flipped open the box of knives, and quickly took the first one that appealed to me, a long serrated machete. I put a small dagger in my other hand.

A small boy stood behind me, as if he was waiting for something. Idiot. I slammed the machete into his gut, and he staggered backwards. I grinned, the blood falling on me like rain, and I slit his throat. _Need more knives_, I thought. I grabbed a few more knives and then I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Katniss Everdeen was struggling with a boy from nine with an orange backpack. _I have my chance_, I thought. I ran towards the pair and threw my knife at the boy's neck. He fell over, dead. _Now_, I thought. Katniss looked puzzled, but then she spied me running towards her, and tried to make a dash for it. I flung a small serrated knife at her head. She hitched the backpack up and my knife lodged itself there. _Damn_. I considered throwing another at her, but she had already vanished under the cover of trees.

A girl ran into me, with a spear in her hand. _Is this where it ends?_ A loud thwack, and the girl staggered backwards. A beautiful silver arrow protruded out of her skull. Glimmer stood at least ten feet in front of me. I grinned at her, and then proceeded to pull out the arrow from the dead girl's head. _Glimmer might need the arrow_.

I returned back to the bloodbath, and a slight girl from three was trying to kill Cato, so I chucked a knife in the girl's direction, and there the knife stuck, right where her heart was.

The bloodbath seemed to go on for hours. I didn't know how many I'd killed, but I really didn't care. I was getting a feel for knifes, and I loved the feeling of the knife plunging into flesh. I loved the sound of it. I loved the warm spray of blood, or the helplessness of my victims. I didn't know about the others, but I didn't think the bloodbath affected them like me. They killed because they had to, and they wanted to win. I killed because I enjoyed it.

When the fighting was finished, and the dead counted up- eleven deaths- and our small group met up in the woodland, under the huge trees. Cato, Marvel, Glimmer and I were the first to arrive. Coral- the girl from four- arrived a little later, blood pouring from a shallow wound in her neck. That was surprising; I hadn't thought she would survive the bloodbath.

"Right, we'd better look in our backpacks and see what we have to eat." Cato said. _What a surprise_. Cato always needed food. There was a loud crunching noise from…somewhere. We were hidden in the trees and these tributes were too. We all stiffened, it could be the boy from Eleven. The crunching noise came closer, and we were faced with none other than Peeta Mellark, and the tribute from Three.

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**Hi everyone! I hoped you enjoyed Chapter 11! Please review, reviews make me happy!**

**- ohsosexyfoxhat  
**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"What do you want?" snarled Cato, "You're just tributes. I could spear you both in seconds." He shoved the spear under Peeta's nose. _Wait. WAIT._

"Wait!" I yelled. Cato angled his spear towards the ground.

"What, Clove?" he sounded aspirated, tired.

"We could use him to find her." I said, scowling, mentally ordering him to drop his spear.

"I say we kill them both now, we'll find that bitch sooner or later."

"I agree with Clove." Marvel's voice piped up.

"Huh? Seriously, Marvel you don't want to testify my judgment."

"We could kill off Three. We could use Twelve, like Clove said. He probably knows some things about her. He's from the same district."

"Fine! Fine. Lover boy, you tell us where that bitch of yours is and you won't die by my spear."

"I'd say she's gone near water, in the forest." mumbled Peeta. Silence cloaked our little group.

"Uh," Three broke the silence. We'd seemed to have forgotten about him.

I grabbed a dagger from my pocket, aiming the tip at him.

"Do you want me to kill him?" I asked Cato. He'd taken to leading our little group.

"Na," Cato considered, "If Lover boy lives, he lives, might come in handy."

I laughed. It was like old times, a guy from District Three, useful?! The others stared at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was.

We walked through the forest for what seemed like ages, the crisp pine needles crunching under our feet.

"Must've taken ages," I said.

"What must've taken ages?" asked Cato who was directly in front of me. Peeta and the boy from Three, Freddie were shunted at the back.

"Building this Arena," I answered, "I mean, it must've taken years to grow these trees."

"Clove?" Cato said

"Yeah?"

"Do you realise this Arena was made by the Capitol? They're probably mutts or something like that."

"Yeah. I kinda forgot I was here."

Dark held us firmly in its grasp, and night took over. We walked in the darkness looking positively evil with our weapons and my unsheathed knives. Apart from the dots of light from our torches, everything was a shade of black.

Then, without warning, Cato stopped.

"What is it?" I hissed.

"Shut it, Clove." Cato snapped. He nodded towards a cluster of trees. An orangey bright light tinged the leaves and branches in the forest. A fire.

"Come on, guys." I whispered. We began to run, no charge, at the fire starter. I burst into the clearing, Cato in front, the others not far behind.

"Please! Please don't kill me! I'll…I'll do anything!" The girl resembled a ferret, and she was shaking like a leaf.

"Want to do the honours, Clove?" asked Cato.

"Sure," I said, delicately picking out a beautiful jagged knife from my jacket.

Then the ferrety girl starts screaming.

I grinned, and then I threw the knife into her throat, her screams cutting off immediately. I laughed, and so did the others.

"What an idiot!" I choked out.

"Yeah, did you hear her? Oh! Please don't kill me," mimicked Glimmer._ I'd hate to admit it, but I am starting to like her, she's a good laugh. _

"Yeah, well done Clove." Said Marvel

"Yeah." Cato half-heartedly agreed.

_I've got a feeling Cato would've wanted this, the glory of killing someone, the attention. But let's be honest he's had his fair share of kills. He probably told me to kill her to be nice. Cato's not nice, though…he's…he's cunning and a good friend, but nothing more? Right? Right._

"Twelve down and eleven to go!" shouted Coral, and everyone laughed and cheered, generally just living in the moment. Forgetting most of us will be dead by the end of this.

Marvel bends down next to the girl, and checks her over for supplies. She has a small pack of matches and a water bottle. That's it. He throws the matches at Cato and slips the water bottle in his backpack.

"Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking." Said Cato. Murmurs of 'yeah' and 'good idea' trickled threw our little group. We stood directly beneath a large tree, figuring out what exactly to do next.

"I say we keep moving," offered the boy from three.

"Shut up." I snapped at him.

"Wait. Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" asked Glimmer.

"I'd say yes. Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately." reasoned Marvel.

"Unless she isn't dead." Cato countered.

I scowled, "She's dead. I stuck her myself." I yelled.

"Then where's the cannon?" Cato snapped at me._ We were going to argue, I could tell, and one of us wasn't going to see the dawn._

Coral literally saved me by coming up with something reasonable to say.

"Someone should go back. Make sure the job's done."

"Yeah, we don't want to track her down twice."

"I said she's dead!" I yelled.

"How do you know that, Clove? You're not the fricking girl!"

"Shut up Cato. Do you really doubt that she would survive a knife to the throat?" I asked him rhetorically.

"Well, if it's you throwing it, then yeah, considering you're so little."

"Why bother bringing my size into this? At least I'm smarter than you considering you think that the girl would still be able to walk, never mind breathe, as if she hadn't been attacked by me."

"At least I don't kill like a maniac. You're pretty keen on suffering. I saw your face when I said you could kill her, like you wanted to torture her or something. You're just like your mother, and you're going to end up like your aunt."

"Don't you dare bring my family into this, you bastard."

"I can do anything goddamn I want, so shut it Clove, or do you want to end up like your dear Auntie Claudia."

I held my knife, so close it touched his stomach, the cold edge making him flinch.

"You know I could go further. I could, if I really wanted to. I could kill you right now. You wouldn't have a chance. That's how the _great _Cato Jakes dies. By his district partner's knife, now that _would _be a sad tale. I may be mad, but at least I have guts." I whispered this, just to unnerve him, and so the rest of the group couldn't hear me.

"Stop it, Clove." hissed Cato. He grabbed the knife from my grasp and threw it to the ground.

"We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!" shouts Lover Boy.

_I hate Cato. I hate him. Just because he knows exactly what happens at my home, doesn't mean he can use it against me. The only reason I won't kill him is 1) He is my district partner, 2) It is way too early to break the alliance and 3) He's been my friend for seven years, and if I do kill him, I may end up like my mother and then no one will take care of Libby. So what if I'm being over-dramatic? I could die in a few days._

"Go on then, Lover Boy. See for yourself." Snapped Cato.

Lover Boy limped off in the direction of the girl. He held a knife, and I assumed he's pretty handy with it considering when we found him, it had blood all over it.

"Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?" asked Glimmer

"Let him tag along," reasoned Marvel, "What's the harm? And he's handy with that knife."

"Besides, he's our best chance of finding her." I said.

"Why? You think she bought into that sappy romance stuff?" asked Coral

"She might have. Seemed pretty simple-minded to me. Every time I think about her spinning around in that dress, I want to puke." said Glimmer.

"Wish we knew how she got that eleven." I said, enviously.

"Bet you Lover Boy knows." Marvel said.

A sound of snapping twigs silenced us. Lover Boy returned.

"Was she dead?" asked Cato.

"No, but she is now." A cannon boomed in the distance, "Want to move on?"

We start off at a run, just as the sunrise tinged the sky with hues of orange, pink and red.

* * *

**Hi everyone, just a small disclaimer, which I haven't put in my previous chapters because I didn't think I really needed to put it in. I am not Suzanne Collins and do not own the Hunger Games.**

**Please read and review, it makes me happy and then I am more likely to post further chapters quicker. Do you like how the Clove/Cato relationship is going? Do you like the character of Clove? Was there any grammar or spelling issues? Thank you, DFTBA (Don't forget to be awesome) and have a good day- ohsosexyfoxhat.  
**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

We crashed through the bracken, looking for more victims to kill. It was tiring now, we'd been running in the forest for hours, and we hadn't stopped moving for a day and a half.

"Stop! Stop, guys!" yelled Coral. She'd been stuck at the back- she couldn't keep up with the pace.

"What?" hissed Cato, withdrawing a sword from his belt. No-one questioned Cato's plans, or you could end up dead.

"I said, Coral, what?" he hissed again, his eyes turning into snake-like slits.

Coral sighed, and took out a dagger from the pocket of her jacket. She looked around almost menacingly at Cato.

"All I'm saying is that I think we need a rest. We're hungry and tired. All the other tributes are probably smart enough to hide or group up. Let's face it we aren't going to pick up any stragglers," said Coral.

"We're going to move on," spat Cato.

"Coral's right." I said, hoping Cato would recall what happened last time when he didn't agree with me.

"Yeah, come on Cato, I'm hungry, we haven't eaten in ages." piped up Marvel.

"Ok, ok, Fine. Where do we suggest we camp?"

"Here," I said stubbornly, taking my backpack of my shoulders and sitting on the soft mossy ground. The others, even Freddie and Lover Boy sat down.

Cato finally resigned, and sat down like the rest of us.

I looked in my backpack for food. Three apples, glistening like jewels sat at the top of my backpack. Cheese, a loaf of bread and a flask full of water. A feast.

I slowly started on one of the apples, and I realised I was ravenous. I scoffed the apples, leaving nothing but the stalks. I ate the entire cheese; it crumbled so delicately in my mouth. I ripped the bread in half, saving half for later, but eating half a loaf- not even bothering to share. I poured the water down my throat, not tasting it; I just needed the feeling of rehydration.

"God, Clove, haven't you eaten for days?" asked Glimmer.

"No!" I retorted

Glimmer laughed, "Silly!" she whispered, "I ate food when he wasn't looking. He's tense isn't he? Is he always like this? Still fit though." Her voice trailed off, waiting for an answer.

"Um. Yeah." My voice sounded as if a skeletal hand was squeezing on my voice box.

"Um, yeah what?" asked Glimmer.

"Yes, he's always been like this. He gets stressed, anger issues. Whatever." I muttered.

"Yeah, and so are you. The knife argument? I saw it. I heard everything. You both wanted to kill each other."

"Um, yeah. I'd prefer if the whole of Panem didn't know that."

"Honey," Glimmer simpered, "They already do. Hey! Lover Boy light us a fricking fire!"

Lover Boy scrambled to his feet, and ran off into the under growth to collect wood, I supposed.

"So, Clove what's the whole deal with you and Cato?" asked Glimmer.

I laughed, "We're not very good district partners. We hate each other. He used my family against me."

Strangely, I didn't mind Glimmer prying into my relationship with Cato. For a person who had trained all their lives, she was pretty weak. Not as weak as Coral, but still I could defeat her. But for some strange reason, I didn't think Glimmer _would_ try to kill me, well only if we came down to the final three or something. Glimmer and I, we could remain allies for most of it.

Glimmer grinned, her tongue flicking by her teeth. "You're not so worried if I make a pass at him?" she asked.

I shook my head. "You're mad!" I exclaimed

"Na, not really. We're in the Hunger Games, if I'm going to die; I want to actually live before dying."

"Fair enough." I mumbled

"Yeah, I thought I'd better ask, wouldn't want my head flying off while I'm snogging somebody."

I laughed. Glimmer was really delirious.

I pulled her silver arrow from out of my jacket; I just remembered that I had it.

"Glimmer, I got your arrow."

"Thanks! I supposed that's my lucky arrow. Saved your lazy ass when you were chasing the-," she paused dramatically. She picked up a stick from the now lit fire and twirled around with it in her hand. "Girl on Fire!"

The rest of the group looked up, and burst into pearls of laughter, even Lover Boy was laughing. It probably meant the whole I've-been-in-love-with-you-for-ever thing was just to lure Katniss into a fake sense of security, and then kill her like you would a pig.

* * *

**Sorry its taken me quite a while to upload! I've had quite a few issues with this chapter, and a lot of writer's block... so please review! It would be lovely to have some feedback, as I had really no idea what to do in this chapter. Did the Clove and Glimmer friendship work? Otherwise, have a good day, and don't forget to be awesome!~ ohsosexyfoxhat**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

A thick smell, heavy with the scent of the forest wafted into my nostrils. _Ergh, was it morning already? _I carefully lifted myself off the forest floor, the pine needles digging into my palms. I opened my eyes. I was surrounded by fog, no, smoke. In the distance, I could hear the crackle of trees, burning into ashes. I screamed like a banshee, leaping up grabbing my backpack.

I kicked Glimmer roughly in the side. She swore loudly. Well, until she noticed the omniscient grey cloud of smoke and the crackle of a million fires.

"Shit!" she screamed. The others began to stir, scrambling for backpacks and weapons.

"Come on, run!" bellowed Cato.

I started running away from the smoke, but I noticed something in the ground. I'd left my knifes. How could I have been so stupid? The smoke was turning into a chalky black, but I didn't care. I couldn't risk being weapon-less, not ever. I dived into the smoke, hitting the ground hard. Immediately, the smoke filled my eyes. It felt as if wasps had stung my pupils. Squinting, I couldn't recognize the silvery glint of my beloved knives.

The air, heavy with the smoke filled into my lungs, forcing the oxygen to escape, causing me to struggle. I fumbled in the ground, my hand grasping a knife handle. The blackness consumed me, knocking me on the ground, my lip coming in contact with a sharp knife edge.

"Where the hell is she?" someone shouted. Cato, maybe? My thoughts were numb, running around my head like wild animals. They didn't make an impact. I would be the first to die of our little alliance. Death would greet me, open armed and smiling, and I shall meet Claudia, and Cato's family and all the others I never knew. My thoughts stopped and faded to the blackness, but I could still hear.

"Cato, she's done for!" said someone, Coral?

"She's one of the smartest people here; we can't slash our chances of winning. If we don't have her, then we might not make another night!"

"I don't think smart people impulsively run back to get their weapons, when there is probably more at the Cornucopia. Just leave her; the cannon will go off any second."

"Piss off, Coral, unless you want your head on my spear. I'm getting Clove. She's my district partner."

There was a sound of leaves, rustling in the undergrowth, a splutter of coughs. Then there was a sharp tug at my leg. The cold hand pressed against my burning skin, and I found my self being pulled away from the smoke. I wasn't going to die, not yet anyway.

Fresh air streamed into my lungs, I coughed violently, spitting phlegm into the leafy forest floor. Cato pulled me up to my feet, roughly shaking my shoulders.

"What the hell, Clove? That's the last time I save your ass, you're on your own."

Cato stormed down back to join the others. I walked down the hill and was joined by Glimmer. Her hair smelt faintly of burning, but a smile was on her face.

"Stupid!" Glimmer's voice lilted into laughter.

"What?" I asked her, a scowl furrowing my brow.

"Don't you remember? You put most of your knives in your jacket. And that jacket just happens to be in your backpack."

"What!" I screamed, remembering the previous night, and that I'd left some knifes beside me.

The whole charade of me going into the smoke was worth nothing. I'd shown to the others I was stupid, impulsive. This was maybe what I needed. Some fake smoke screen of stupidity, to trick them into thinking I'm easy to kill.

"Guys!" Glimmer called to the others, "I think we need to find some water."

We walked a little further, until we came to a tranquil lake. I'd just filled my water bottle until I noticed something. A movement in the water, at the edge where some trees were, and I saw a flash of bare leg. And then a distinctive brown plait. Her, Katniss Everdeen was here.

* * *

**Hi guys, I'm sorry it's been a very long time since I last updated this story. Don't worry, I'm not going to leave this story unfinshed! **

**Do you think Clove's character is as good as in the book?**

**... I'm not Suzanne Collins, so I didn't create The Hunger Games..  
**

**Please read and review, as I love hearing feedback! :) DFTBA (Don't forget to be awesome), and have a nice day!  
**

**-ohsosexyfoxhat  
**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The others began to charge, at once noticing The Girl on Fire. She flipped out of the water and ran, not bothering to look back. We ran up a stony bridge to get to the grassy bank. I could see her in the distance, her plait swishing side to side like a cow's tail.

"C'mon guys! We can get her!" yelled Marvel, whooping.

We were so close to killing her now. We were pushing her towards the forest, where we could easily attack her. Easily.

We turned around the corner, hurdled over brambles and shrubs, yelling to each other even though our throats remained raspy from the flames.

We stopped to a halt at a huge ancient tree, branches fanning out, showing glossy green leaves. She was at least six metres up by the time we got there.

At first, we're amazed. Amazed that a tiny, insignificant human being from 12 is climbing up a tree like a squirrel. I realise something before everyone else does. In the training centre at home we are never told to climb something. Sometimes, when I was a kid, I'd climb the trees at home but they were never as tall as this. I realise that climbing after her was a lost cause. I stood, looking up as she edged her way up the coarse bark of the tree.

She turned and looked down at us, smiling. I remember thinking, _this girl's going to die soon and all she can do is smile?_

"How's everything with you?" she called down. The shock of her bravery jolted through us.

Cato lent against the tree, facing us, and called up to her, "Well enough? Yourself?"

"It's a bit warm for my taste. The air's better up here. Why don't you come on up?"

_Flirting with death now? Seriously,_ I thought, _she's going to die a painful death messing with us like this._

Glimmer offers Cato her arrows, with a quick, light "Here, take this, Cato." All of a sudden, I'm consumed with such _jealousy. _It coursed through my veins like blood. I knew I was being stupid. Glimmer had said from the beginning, that _she _wanted to flirt with Cato. That _she_ wanted to 'snog him senseless'. Why was I being so jealous, why was my face burning like it did at the interviews?

It's only when Cato says "No, I'll do better with my sword."

I realise. I wanted him to turn down _my_ offer of knives. I found myself at a loss to as why I would want that. He insulted my family. But he also rescued me from the flames. He also said, 'That's the last time I save your ass.' I wasn't sure if the bad things mattered. An ally can turn killer in a split second. A lethal enemy can turn into dust with one slash of a knife. So why not an enemy turn into a friend? Or more than that? In the hunger games, seconds are crucial. Minutes, hours and days are nothing. It's the seconds that count.

Cato slowly started to climb up the tree, a metre. Two metres. Three, four, five metres. I had the feeling that Cato was going to kill this bitch once and for all. He grabs a branch- a rotten one, and crashes to the floor. For a second fear brushes me, like a ghost. I am positively certain that Cato had snapped his neck. Or something bad, and almost certainly painful. However, he jumped to his feet, swearing profusely at Katniss.

I kept thinking I should try and climb the tree, I'd be better than Cato, I'm smaller and I have a substantial amount of practice. This is until Glimmer attempted and failed, I realised that whatever I have to offer will be futile.

Glimmer shoots at Katniss with an arrow. Glimmer's arrow lodged itself firmly into the tree trunk next to Katniss's head. Katniss plucked it out the tree as if it is nothing, and waves it above her head teasing us.

"How the hell are we gonna get her down now?" Coral moaned.

"Shut up! I'll do it!" I offered.

"Like hell you will! I swear she's like a rodent or something!" muttered Glimmer

"Yeah, Clove wouldn't get further than two metres," said Cato, scathingly.

I smile, childlike at him, "Must be painful, a knife in your belly." I've reminded him of that time where I almost killed him.

A voice breaks over our chatter.

"Oh let her stay up there. It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning."

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**Hi everyone! I hope you all enjoyed chapter 15. Please Read and Review!**

**Thank you so much to anyone who reviewed previously :)  
**

**Have a nice day- ohsosexyfoxhat  
**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Confusion swept over me like a storm. I didn't think Peeta would be capable of such feats. Suggesting how to kill his district mate, but Fire Girl's not only that, she's meant to be the love of his life.

So I _assumed_ that the others weren't gullible enough to believe Peeta. I mean, I would've killed him there and then, but what would've happened to me? The others thought Peeta was loyal and trustworthy enough to give up Katniss. I never doubted this boy. How seamlessly he glided though his interview, it was just word play. Lies and tricks. I _assumed _the others knew. I was stupid enough not to learn from that lesson. At the end, assumption had me screaming for mercy. You'll hear of my end sooner or later.

"Ok. Fine, Lover Boy have it your way."

"Someone light a fire!" Coral yelled. Tonight's job of fire lighting was given to Freddie, the unremarkable boy from three.

I sat down, and shrugged off my jacket, meticulously sorting out my knives. After my jacket had been crumpled in my rucksack, my knives had gone everywhere.

I organised it so my larger knives, the machete, the butcher knife, a knife that looked like one my mother used for meat, were on the left hand side of my jacket, whereas on the right were my beauties. Knives so shiny and curved, that they looked they were alive, humming with vitality. My personal favourite was a needle thin one, with a tiny handle. It was familiar from the centre.

"_Now, Clove, I understand that you've been practicing a lot with big bulky knives, ones that can cause pain. You need to understand if you are to go into the Hunger Games, you may become friends with your allies. You may already be friends with your district partner. Therefore, when it comes to killing people you trusted or liked, use this knife, Babushka."_

"_Babushka?" I questioned Dmitri._

"_In the Old World, before Panem, not even here, what our ancestors called North America, there was a place called… now what was its name? Europe. I think that was it. And there was some story in that place. There was this old lady called Babushka, I think. Maybe she was a witch. But I am not sure; the story has been lost to the winds. Anyways, in an old language, Babushka means Grandmother. She is your Grandmother knife, she's wise and gentle. But treat her well, Clove. Babushka is delicate."_

_I held it roughly in my hands, my fist grasping the handle._

"_No, Clove, give her to me."_

_I gave Dmitri back the knife. He held it gently, his first finger stretching delicately along the length of the handle. I imagined he held it like the people in the Capitol would hold their knives._

_He handed me back the knife. I held Babushka like he had done, delicately, effortlessly._

"_Right, Clove. Now you are actually holding the knife right,"- I scowled-"I can tell you exactly how to kill someone without pain. Unlike normal knives where you can cut anywhere on the body, through muscle, bone, tendons, you name it. Babushka will break if you try and force into someone. You have to throw it like a dove, let it swirl through the air! You have to aim it exactly right, though. Aiming it at the back of someone's neck is certain death, but if it hits someone's shoulder, they'll get nothing more than a scratch."_

Marvel threw off his backpack and sat down beside me.

"All right?" he asked me.

"Suppose." I really didn't want to talk to Marvel. You could hear the laughter of Cato and Glimmer, the crackle of the fire.

Glimmer's laughter was like treacle, sickeningly sweet, forcing everyone to laugh, forcing everyone to be happy. I was the only one not smiling and miserable.

We hadn't killed Katniss, she was stuck up some tree. I couldn't trust Peeta and I assumed no-one did. My relationship with Cato was non-existent, I was jealous that Cato actually _liked_ Glimmer. I was jealous that my ally was flirting with my district partner, jealous because she was obviously better than me. Well, better liked than me. Why should I care? In a few weeks, I'll be either dead or alive. The time for opinions, friendship and love is over. Now it's kids in an arena with knives and swords, arrows and spears. Thirteen and twelve year olds killed.

I grabbed a dainty two-bladed number and thrust in into a belly of a lizard. It was a pointless exercise, but I was bored, and even though the sky was indigo and the fire was smouldering, I couldn't sleep, not with Katniss in the tree. Finally I succumbed to sleep, tired from the blaze from the previous night.

* * *

** First of all, sorry this has taken quite a while to upload! I've gone back to school, and I've had no imagination or inspiration for weeks! **

**Even though this is a short chapter, I hoped you enjoyed it, so please read and review!  
**

**- ohsosexyfoxhat  
:D have a good day and don't forget to be awesome!  
**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The sound is a million people cheering, cheering because I've won. I've won the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games. I'm a victor. President Snow smiles at me, lifting up a beautiful thin gold crown and putting it on my head.

"Congratulations."

Suddenly, out of President Snow's throat comes a huge centipede, it wiggles in front of me, baring brown fangs. It launched itself into attack, burrowing its fangs into the soft skin of my neck. I reeled back in shock. The pain is like a sharp slap, and suddenly, I'm falling. Falling into the unknown. Hitting a damp woodland floor.

I wake up running. I had to get away from that place. A nest of Tracker Jackers had fallen into our camp. They stung us everywhere, our arms, our legs, our necks, our faces. I hit away a Tracker Jacker just after it stung me just above my eye. The pain almost made me keel over. It was as if a white hot nail had buried its self beneath my skin. I just kept running I didn't care about the others; I just needed to get away from those damn bugs.

I splashed into the cool water of the lake, slowly walking into it, the blissful water reaching my thighs. I collapsed, I felt the water crashing around my face, but the coldness or the density of the water didn't matter, it was artificial.

My mother was under the water. I could hear her mumbling threats, her yelling and her complaints. I could smell her. Sweat, dirt and watery lamb stew. I wanted to leave her, but I couldn't turn to face the sun. I opened my eyes.

Her face was contorted into an angry scowl, and she walked purposefully to the surface of the lake. Her mouth twisted almost divinely, however, this is my mother, and with a face like rock with wire hair was never an appealing image.

"Libby?" she called sternly, "Where are you Libby?"

_Realisation went through me like a current., Libby was lost. She was in an arena. Not any arena, an arena which children fight to the death in. _

"Libby!" I cried, cold water gushing into my mouth, dragging me down to the bottom of the lake. I couldn't breathe or swallow. Water was filling me up like a balloon. And suddenly, in front of me was my mother.

I've never cared to explain what my mother looked like before. She was in her late thirties. She had brown wire like strands of hair which were haphazardly cut into a bob, a ritual she performed every three months, bending over the kitchen sink with rusty scissors in hand. She had a small upturned nose, which, maybe when she was younger; made her look pretty, but now she had the appearance of constant aloofness. My father often commented on my mother's eyes.

"_It was the eyes," _he'd say, _"It was her eyes that made me fall in love with your mamma."_

A lot of girls who lived in my district had classic District Two blue eyes. I didn't, my eyes were hazel, a not-really-there-colour, a mixture of everything else. My mother had those blue eyes everyone desired. My dad would tell me she had beautiful long eyelashes and eyes that sucked you in. Even at my early age, I couldn't see it myself. My mother's eye-colour had changed since when she was a teenager. They were now a watery blue, like rain.

Even though we definitely weren't the poorest in town, my mother only had three different outfits. Two were dirty patched up pinafores, with vile floral patterns spilled over them. The other was a smart knee length dress. It was velvet, scarlet and rich. It had puffed up sleeves and a lace collar. I'd never seen my mother wear that dress. She'd announced to me, she'd only wear that dress once, on her funeral.

My mother opened her mouth, but instead of the yellowing (but otherwise perfect) teeth; there were small daggers, each tooth like one of my own. My mother's cardboard face had disappeared; in its place was a creature. The creature had smooth green skin, the colour of a murky pool. Its entire face was weasel like ending into a knife like point. Its body vanished into the darker depths of the lake. What scared me most were those eyes. They were the things of nightmares. For what stared back at me were my eyes. My hazel eyes, the one thing in my face that I actually liked. They were the same shape, big round eyes with eyelashes that swarmed around the edges. My irises were there too; mostly brown, so dark it blended into my pupil but with flickers of green and blue added in.

And that's when I screamed. The realisation had sunken into my skin, entered my pores, filled my lungs. A claw grasped my shoulder, so hard I was sure it had drawn blood. And instead of going down in to the murky depths, I was pulled up- to sunlight. To reality.

Water spewed out of my lungs, I was lying down on the rocky shore of the lake, half certain my canon was going to go off. My rescuer, wasn't a creature at all, it was Cato. His blond hair stuck up in all different directions, with twigs and leaves stuck in it. His lip was split, and there were Tracker Jacker stings in his neck and arms. Cato was covered in sticky crimson blood. However, it was certainly not his own. Apart from that, Cato looked dazed but fine. He didn't look as if he'd been killed inside, like I felt.

My mother and sister, I imagined themdead and gone_…. _It made me feel as if I should throw up, go lie down and wait for death. Instead, I ignored it, like an irritating fly.

"You need-" Cato coughed; his voice was rough like sandpaper. "You need to pull out the stings."

I reached for the first one, one that was on my neck.

"No!" he spluttered. Then, almost gently, "I'll do it."

He carefully moved my wet hair away from my neck. So lightly, it felt as if his hands were feathers. His brow crumpled into concentration, his lips frowning ever so slightly. He got the first sting between his fingertips and pulled, so gently I felt no pain. The second one, the one near my eyebrow was removed as expertly as the first. His hands, the hands used for killing, maiming, hurting people, cutting off lives, held my face as if he hadn't done any of that.

And then, he was so close I wanted to kiss him. His nose was almost touching mine. So tempting, just for a second. I wanted to feel his lips crushed against mine. And then I remembered the horrible truth. Only one stays alive. Only one. I can't kiss Cato. That would be stupidity. That would mean heart-break, especially if I kill him.

"Oi! Cato!" called Marvel. Cato jumped up, and ran into the undergrowth. I was kneeling on the rocky, awful shore of that damned lake. Biting my lip. Wishing this was just a dream. Wishing I hadn't been stupid enough to volunteer. Hadn't I seen this coming? I blinked away tears, and followed Cato into the forest.

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**Sorry this has been quite a while! Please read and review! Thanks to everyone else who has reviewed! **


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The briars scratched my arms and legs as I ran after Cato. Even after an exhausting nine days in the arena, I was still pretty fast. I could hear the shouts and whoops of Cato and Marvel. I wondered if Glimmer and Coral were there. I wondered why Cato had pulled out my Tracker Jacker stings.

_It doesn't matter now. _My belly rumbled. It seemed it had been years since I had some decent food. I ran into a clearing. Flowers were nestled at the base of trees. Birds flew above my head, and I could hear the quite singing of the brook. It would be paradise if it were any where else.

"Hey! Clove! We'd thought you'd died!" yelled Marvel.

Marvel and Cato were sitting on logs and branches, their backpacks collapsed on their sides. Cato still had blood all over him. His half of his hair was sticking up, thick with blood.

"You OK, Clove? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Um… yeah," I fall into silence.

Cato gives me a quizzical look.

"You're acting so weird today, Clove. What the hell is wrong with you?"

_Oh you know the lovely feeling of imminent death. Or maybe I should tell you that I really don't want you to kill me or to watch you die. I don't even know where I stand. I don't even know where we stand._

"What happened to that goddamn bitch from 12?" I hadn't heard the canon go off.

"Well you're slow on the uptake," muttered Marvel

I turned back to Cato "What does he mean?" I ask.

Cato sighed, "She threw a Tracker Jacker nest on us. Remember?"

"Of course I remember!" I snapped hotly.

"Anyways, most of us got to the lake. Glimmer and Coral however-"

"Got overpowered by those damn wasps," Marvel butted in.

"Yeah. So I went to the lake, though I followed Peeta as he ran back to the camp."

"Were you being stupid?" I exclaimed. The boys arched their eyebrows, and I realise I should've kept my mouth shut.

"Well, I saw that Peeta guy, those damn Tracker Jacker stings were affecting me like crazy. He was screaming at that bitch. You know what he said? Come on, guess. He said, 'Run Katniss, Run!' Pathetic. So I grabbed my sword, but the hallucinations had started and I just swung the damn thing. I think I almost hacked his leg off. I figured he'd die slowly, like a traitor should."

"What about Glimmer and Coral?" I asked

"I've already told you," said Marvel, exasperated, "They got stung too many times, they're goners."

"What!" I screamed. An unwanted surge of anger filled me, a tsunami that drowned my conscious. I scrambled up from the floor, and dashed into the woods.

I didn't even know why I did it. Maybe because Glimmer was the only one I could truly trust. Maybe I didn't want our alliance breaking up so soon.

Tears cascaded down my face. The salty tears fell into my gaping Tracker Jacker wounds, making feel as if someone set them alight. Stupid, stupid Cato. No, Stupid, stupid me. If I'd told them all I didn't think Peeta was up to any good, we wouldn't be in this mess. I wouldn't be in this mess. If I'd gone up that bloody tree like I knew I could, Katniss would be dead. Peeta would be dead. Coral and Glimmer would be alive, and we'd be the 'Career' group, like the other tributes called us. Now we were like an old toy that no longer worked, thrown into the river. The tears accumulated, and my vision blurred so I just collapsed, by back pressing into a tree trunk. God, I was so pathetic. I was unable to do anything.

"Unable to do anything, right? I mess everything up! I try and kill my allies and somehow _avoid _killing my enemies. Oh, and apparently, if you're trained, you can block off your feelings, your memories. Well, Dmitri. You can't."

I screamed into my arm. God. My mother was right. Cato was right. I was turning into my Aunt Claudia.

"_Daddy? Mummy won't tell me, but who is Claudia?"_

_My father sighed, tired. After a minute of total silence, he finally spoke, so quietly it sounded like music. "Claudia was your Mummy's sister. She died in the Hunger Games."_

Several years later, I became more acquainted with my Aunt's death. However, this time it was at school, not at home.

"_The fifty-second Hunger Games were particularly memorable. The victor, I'm afraid wasn't from our district. It was Leonne Starflower from District 5. She used her strength and wit to win the Games. The fifty-second Games were in a rocky mountain setting. On several occasions, Leonne used the rocks to kill her fellow tributes. We'll see a few clips in a moment. However, our very own tributes were Tristan Waters, now class, don't remember about him. He died in the bloodbath. However, our female tribute was a particularly interesting character- Clove, would you like to tell us about your Aunt?"_

_Twelve years old and completely naïve about my own family history. I blushed, embarrassed. _

"_Um, I- ergh- haven't really- It's a sensitive topic." The class erupted into comical childhood laughter. I buried my head in my arms. _

"_Well," the teacher sat down on her chair ready to begin. "Claudia Adams was reaped for the fifty-second Hunger Games. We'll watch a clip from the fifty-second, class," The clip started on the old TV in front of us. A girl, who looked similar to me, same nose, same lips. She had honey blonde hair that stuck to the blood on her lips._

I screamed harder. NO. I don't want to turn into her. I don't. I don't. My throat felt like sandpaper. I had been screaming too much. I felt as if a snake had wrapped its way around my neck, slowly squeezing the air out of me.

Feet scurried towards me. Branches cracked. I turned my head upwards. The boots were the same as mine, the trousers the same, but the jacket, the jacket was a mossy green. The boy had mud plastered over his face, his black hair driven upwards.

"Well, if it isn't Two." He hissed. I paused, looking at his features. Trying to determine whether he would kill me or not.

"You don't have the guts." I hissed, "How many have you actually killed? One? Maybe two? I've killed at least seven!"

"Yeah, and look what happened to you you're a complete wreck."

That was it. I scrambled to my feet, grabbing any knife out of my pocket. A dangerous looking razor blade. Perfect. I wrenched his hair back, the idiot hadn't even tried to run.

"Please!" he whined desperately, "Don't kill me I could help you!"

"Yeah. You could." I stopped, mock pausing. _My acting must be brilliant. _The boy didn't protest. I was still holding his hair. In a lightning fast movement, I twisted his head, satisfied when I heard a crack, which was nothing more then when Mother smashed her plates. The canon followed moments later.

"Help?" I muttered, "In your dreams."

I dropped his body, and walked slowly back to the camp. I wasn't crying anymore, I didn't care what the others thought of me. I had to win. I had to kill. I couldn't die.

As the madness of the Games consumed me, I became like Dmitri had always told me to become – unpredictable. Uncaring. Emotionally dead to the world.

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**So sorry that this has been an extremely long wait. I've gone back to school, so I've been quite busy! Also I wasn't particually 'feeling the Hunger Games' vibe this past month... :( However, I am determined not to go on hiatus. I'll try and post new chapters whenever I can. Please read and review, I love reading the comments I get! - ohsosexyfoxhat oxoxox**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

I walked back to the camp, slowly, each crackle of the pine needles justifying my footsteps. I felt like that boy had killed me. I was a body with no soul. I couldn't hear the laughter from Cato and Marvel. I couldn't hear the crackle of the fire. I couldn't feel the slight numbness in my fingers. I was just a ghost, a prisoner in my own body. I was almost there, when snapping branches disturbed me.

"Clove?" there was a whisper in the trees. It wasn't Cato it was a girl. I knew this voice, I recognized it. I just couldn't place where I had heard it before.

"Who's there?" I shouted.

From the corner of my eyes I saw a white pearlescent glitter, almost like _snow._ Snow was so comparable to the Games. The lure of the icy fun and how beautiful it looks just placed on the windowsill. Then you go outside, and it's so cold. The chill is like fire, but worse. The freezing temperatures numb your fingers, at first. Then it's no longer fun outside. I remembered with an unpleasant jolt that our President's name was Snow. This whole thing-Panem, the Games, the Capitol-was just a game of chess. And lives of people were the pieces. Tossed aside at the 'Check Mate'.

"Clove!" the whisper was harsher this time. I whirled around. Glimmer was there. But wasn't Glimmer. Glimmer was meant to be dead-or at least nearly dead. Glimmer was a lot taller than I remembered, her body painfully stretched. Huge hives disfigured her; she was no longer someone to be envious about. Her features were unrecognisable, some of the Tracker Jacker stings had exploded and green slime coated her neck. Although Glimmer, wasn't truly here. When she moved, there was some distortion to the background. The edges of her skin were like snow. _Ah, that's what I saw. Glimmer. Not snow._ I thought.

"What you doing here?" I asked

"Soon, I won't be here anymore. You lucky bitch! You realise that, right? You have a bigger chance of winning. Um. Yeah if you do, can you make sure I'm buried right?"

"Glimmer! I'm not even from-"

"My district. I know, but the Victory Tour, remember? This past week was really fun. I suppose in some kind of twisted, cynical way. Anyway, I wanted to make sure you were going to be OK. Oh what else… Yeah. Don't bother with befriending Cato. I know your district partners and all, but after all only 1 gets out. That one's going to be you. I can tell. There's something else... Your little sister...Libby, right? Oh yeah, she'll be fine. Just win, OK?"

The words burned into my brain. Glimmer faded slowly, her features gradually returning to what she had originally looked like, her hair waved around her face. She blinked deliberately. Then she was gone in a flash of rainbow coloured light.

I was left staring into the depths of the great wood. Seeing things - the first sign of madness. _Nothing happened_, I told myself. I kept walking through the forest, finally coming to the clearing.

Marvel was asleep by the fire. Cato was sitting by the fire, his backpack slung at his feet. He heard me slowly make my way to the fire.

"Where've you been?" he hissed.

"Nowhere. Been, uh, walking." I muttered.

"Yeah right, Clove. Could've bothered to tell us where you were going. There was a canon and we were shitting ourselves that our best knife thrower had gone and got herself killed."

"Well, I guess you were wrong. I can protect myself you know."

"Yeah. I know."

He let the fire heat up his sword. When the metal was glowing, he lifted it out of the fire and spat on it, the spit fizzing on the heat. Cato had done that once before, the night when District 12 was up that damn tree. He'd done it to impress Glimmer. Now he did it out of boredom.

A canon boomed in the distance. It echoed in my ears. I didn't need a picture flashing on the sky to tell me Glimmer was now dead. I just knew. I sighed, realising I hadn't just lost an ally. I hadn't just lost a comrade. I hadn't just lost a friend. I'd lost the only female friend that I'd ever had. The only person I really trusted in this Arena. Glimmer was lost in a flurry of stings. I would do like she said. I would win.

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**Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed my latest chapter! I know it is a little short, sorry :( I promise the next few chapters will be a little longer than 754 words. Read and review! -ohsosexyfoxhat**


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